One perspective comes to us from Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus.
In Shemot Rabbah 44, we find a powerful idea connected to the story of the Golden Calf and Moses's plea for God to remember the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Israel. It revolves around this verse from Proverbs: "From hand to hand, evil will not be absolved" (Proverbs 11:21). What does that even mean?
Rabbi Pinḥas HaKohen ben Ḥama unpacks it for us. He suggests that if you perform a mitzvah, a good deed, you shouldn’t demand immediate reward. Don't expect that you'll be paid back right away. Why not? Because, as the verse states, you "will not be absolved."
It’s a complex idea, isn't it? Rabbi Pinḥas explains that if you receive your reward in this world for your good deeds, then you might not be punished for your sins until after you die. The implication is that when you pass on, you will only have transgressions on your record. You’ll be considered wicked because you didn’t leave anything good for your descendants. Your good deeds were essentially used up in your lifetime, leaving nothing for the future.
Think about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. What if they had insisted on receiving their reward for every good deed they performed? As Proverbs 11:21 continues, "the descendants of the righteous will escape." Shemot Rabbah wonders, how could Moses have even invoked their names when pleading with God after the sin of the Golden Calf? How could he say, "Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel" if they had already cashed in all their good karma, so to speak?
It's a sobering thought. The text implies that God relented after Moses’s plea because the merit of the Patriarchs was still "available," so to speak. They had not exhausted their spiritual bank accounts. That is, "From hand to hand, evil will not be absolved.”
So, what does this all mean for us today? It’s not about avoiding reward altogether, but about understanding the bigger picture. Maybe the reward isn't always immediate, tangible, or even for us personally. It could be that our good deeds contribute to a larger cosmic balance, benefiting future generations. Maybe our actions help to create a world where our descendants can "escape" – from hardship, from suffering, from evil.
It invites us to consider the long game. To think beyond ourselves and our immediate gratification. To plant seeds that we may never see bloom, trusting that they will blossom for those who come after us. It’s a call to live a life of meaning, not just a life of immediate reward. And perhaps, just perhaps, that's where the real reward lies.